New Perspectives
by Ramblings-And-Randomness
Summary: It's strange how the world seems to change when you view it from the flip-side. Though, I suppose I should have expected it, after enduring so many of Bartimaeus's rants...
1. Prolouge

_Say hello to Kitty for me._

Nathaniel gabbled the last phrase of the Dismissal, and Bartimaeus was gone. Pain hit the magician like a proverbial brick wall, forcing him to his knees.

Strangely enough, Nathaniel couldn't bring himself to care.

Distantly, as if in a dream, the young man watched the end of the Staff explode; the shards of white light pierce the demon; the seven planes shift on their axis, framing a rift in space-time.

Where had he seen that before? That tear, so familiar, but the memory lurked just out of reach.

Nathaniel saw, just through the rift, a beautiful pattern of shifting color, enticing him closer. Knowing he was doomed any way you sliced it, he allowed himself to drift closer absently. His attention shifted back to Gladstone's staff just in time to see the white light decimate his body.

_Odd. I feel no pain. Hmm, death must be something akin to an out-of-body experience._

As he neared the rift, the magician watched, impassive, as Nouda, his body, and everything else was crushed in a smoldering pile of glass and iron.

_Sorry, Kitty..._

Then, he was away, whirling in an endless maelstrom. Gone, but very much alive.

* * *

**So, I'm back on the fan fiction scene... This is going to be my ONLY big writing project for the moment. Really. I promise. **

**Anyway, I believe the Bartimaeus fandom, (which I don't own), is in need of more material. Now, I _know_ this idea isn't as original as it could be, but I plan to make this story as unique as they get. Any hints, suggestions, or feedback of any sort is welcomed with open arms!  
**


	2. Chapter 1

**Nathaniel**

Those first few moments(1) after I passed through were the most frightening of my life. Yes, worse than almost being crushed by a golem, worse than being eaten at by a Pestilence, worse even than seeing Kitty stone-cold and still in her pentacle.

Losing your sense of identity does that to you.(2)

I felt everything that was me begin to slip away, like water. I tried to hold it close, but the endless energy of the maelstrom tore it away every time.

Soon enough, I realized that, with no reprieve in sight, I had to give up. Taking one last metaphorical breath, I let go and let myself be absorbed.

After the initial sheer panic of letting all and sundry know my inner-most thoughts, my next feeling was one of contentment. I'd kept my real self closed off from the world for so long, the feeling of being known and understood was…nice.

For a while after that, I couldn't' really shake my need to be _doing_ something. So, I alternated between learning all the languages known by the spirits, and molding the fluid substance of the other place into shapes that pleased me. Both these activities seemed to be frowned upon by the collective consciousness, but I continued none the less.

The sculpting was the thing that brought me most joy. It had been so long since I could indulge the creativity Ms. Lutyens had so carefully cultivated, I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to lose myself in the art.(3) I also found that, if I gave the essence a form, it helped to focus my thoughts. That, of course, got the rest of the spirits up in arms, so even in this other dimension, creating was hard.

My art was also what alerted me to the changes I began to experience.

~footnotes~

1 Well, not "moments" exactly. The Other Place doesn't' have time like you and I are used to.

2 I mean humans by this, obviously. Spirits relish the feeling like nothing else.

3 Bloody hell, I'm going soft. And to think, Bartimaeus's essence was in the mix. I'll never live that down.

* * *

**So, I wrote most of this right after being in my first ever fender-bender. Super interesting, I know.**

**This is my first foray into the footnotes foreground. (How many more words that start with F can you fit in there?) Any tips of formatting them, or preferences, or anything really, would be nice~  
**

**Oh, and before I forget, I don't own any part of the Bartimaeus Trilogy. Would I have to resort to this if I could just publish another Bart book myself?  
**

**_To my awesome reviewers!_  
**

**Neela: I'm glad you like it! And I'm REALLY glad you reviewed. Feedback makes my day, seriously! **

**As to your comment about the tense change in the last chapter, that was actually correct. It's an extension of the sentence "He saw it happen". Even when I'm talking in the past tense, "happen" would be in the present tense. So, if I say "He saw this happen, and this happen, and this happen.", all three of those verbs would be in present tense~ Though, I realize that's a confusing sentence, so I'll try to avoid those in the future.  
**

**Otherworldviolet: I know I replied to you via pm, but I just wanted to say, once again, that you are awesome for reviewing. Thank you!  
**


	3. Chapter 2

**Nathaniel**

I knew something was wrong when I tried to sculpt Kitty again. Normally, she was the easiest image to conjure up(1), but for some reason, I was having problems. Every time I tried to impose my will on the flow of essence, I just lost motivation. Worse still, those pleasant(2) memories I associated with Kitty(3), that always surfaced when I thought about her, were just out of reach.

My memory, so carefully cultivated and trained, was failing me!

Well, that was what I thought at first. After some thought, and careful study of the essence around me, I came to a different conclusion.

My essence, the very substance of my being, was changing.

Some part of me was bothered by this, but mostly I looked on the fact with indifference. After all, I thought, how bad could drifting in this whirl of contentment be? My human instinct rebelled against the idea of becoming a spirit, but I quickly quashed it(4), for it had no say in the matter and only served to disturb the peace of the Other Place.

I stopped trying to sculpt after that.

* * *

1 Stop snickering. Now.

2 For the most part.

3 Seriously, stop laughing!

4 Something that was becoming a habit…

* * *

**Argh, these chapters... I can't seem to make them longer. Well, hopefully I'll get a bit more inspiration as the plot progresses...**

**_Review replies~_**

**__Neela: Sweet! I'd be thrilled if you got an account to subscribe! Though, in this fandom, you almost don't need to subscribe, just check back every few days... Sheesh, why don't more people read/write about these books?  
**

**Ok, rant over. I'm actually really glad you commented about the weird sentence. If no one had pointed it out, I probably would still be using that same kind of thing, which would just confuse more people. Not to mention, I've been twice as diligent with my grammar checks since then.  
**

**I LOVE writing Nat's footnotes. Seriously, they're the best part about this story so far. I felt they were also a good way to show how he's starting to become not so human anymore, since we lower beings can't think on more than one plane.  
**

**Thanks so much for following my work~  
**

**Otherworldviolet: You're awesome for reviewing. Just thought I'd throw that out there, in addition to my reply~  
**


	4. Chapter 3

**Thoth**

Thump!

The young man's head, heavy with sleep, made contact with the huge tome before jerking back up in alarm. With a mumbled curse, he rubbed his weary eyes, then gingerly touched the red mark on his forehead.

This was the third time tonight he'd face-planted into his book.

Sighing, the magician brushed dark hair from his eyes, the stick-straight locks in need of trimming. He turned tired black eyes back to his work. The heavy book lay open to some page near the middle. Though, reading it would have been difficult, as most of the text was buried in sheets of loose paper, covered in the man's messy scribble.

Why did finding suitable servants need to be so hard?

The young man's eyes were starting to droop again. In his sleep-deprived daze, he picked up a pen and doodled on a spare sheet.

_T-H-O-T-H_

He snapped awake and quickly scribbled the words out, then ripped the section from the paper, then snapped his fingers, uttering a quick command and the paper burst into flames. He was Elton Diggory now, not that insane name his parents had given him. Why they'd even picked such a stupid- No, no, he couldn't think about it at all. Elton. Diggory. That was his name. If his master had taught him anything, it was that one kept all their secrets closer than anything else.

Not that it had done the old fool any good. After all, he'd kept all his secrets so close, then proceeded to summon the most dangerous, most powerful demon of all into himself and no one could stop him from destroying London. Fool.

Another sigh. Those seemed to be a new habit of Thoth's. As if his life wasn't trouble enough without a remembered birth name. Though, his fool of a master had given him almost as much trouble. After all, being affiliated with London's most notorious villain was a dangerous occupation. Especially when that villain inadvertently killed London's latest late hero.

Ah yes, John Mandrake. Tho- Elton had glimpsed him once or twice. How could he not, when Makepeace had nearly forced the man to keep him company for two years? The budding magician could tell Mandrake was powerful, and that he was different. Sure, he'd been the most powerful politician of the era, possibly even more powerful than Makepeace, but under all that, Elton could barely glimpse something. A conscience, perhaps?

Never mind, it didn't matter anyway. Or did it?

Eyes lighting once again, Thoth -No, Elton- wracked his brains to remember the demons Mandrake had employed. He remembered Ascobal, certainly. It was too creepy to be forgotten. Then there was Cormocodron, very powerful. Oh, and then there was…it had started with a 'B'…

The magician shoved his papers to the side and flipped through the book until he found- Ah, yes there it was-

"**Bartimaeus.** Also known as Sakr Al Djinni, N'gorso the Mighty and Rekyt of Alexandria. 4th level, extremely cheeky. Dead. Killed in the Battle of the Glass Palace along with magician John Mandrake."

Just his luck. The one demon he'd actually found promising, and it had been crushed under a thousand tons of iron and glass. Why did his plans, and his life, never, ever, work out?

Now thoroughly disheartened, Elton reached absently for a book of names. Flipping it to a random page, he scanned listlessly. Maybe if he managed to uncover a new demon? Risky, but really, he was short on time now. Risks needed to be taken…

_"Narendra"_

No, any demons with Indian names seemed to be flightly and low-ranked.

_"Nash"_

No. Just no.

_"Nasir"_

Promising, but more than likely had been taken already, and probably by an afrit, the way his luck was going.

_"Natalia"_

Sounded like a name a Succubus would take, and Lord knows he didn't need one of them.

_"Natulius"_

Again, probably taken, and it was Roman. The Romans had been known for their reckless demon summonings, as well as their power.

Yet another sigh. Really, was there no hope for his cause at all? The young man's hand dragged across the page. On a whim he looked at his finger.

Oh. This looked promising. Recent, yet somehow majestic enough to seem plausible for, perhaps, a middling djinni? Something he could have under his full command. Yes, yes he'd try this. After all, he'd end up dead if he failed, and he'd end up dead with no real servant, so what was he risking? Taking up a pencil, Elton circled the name he'd chosen.

_"Nathaniel"_

* * *

**Oh look, a chapter that's more than a page long! I appologize for the wait, but this chapter was kicking my butt, and then writer's block set in... But, I think I'm finally settling into this story, so hopefully it'll start to come easier!**

**_To the Reviewers of Awesome:_  
**

**Neela:**

**Glad you're still liking it~ Hopefully my chapters will continue to get longer, 'cause believe me, I know the short chapter thing is frustrating. I've experienced it from both sides...  
**


	5. Chapter 4

**_Oh look, an update. Hehehe... Please don't shoot me until you read the note at the bottom, alright? Alright._  
**

* * *

**Bartimaeus**

"_Sorry that took so long, Bartimaeus. I didn't expect Farrar to be so difficult… Anyway, I promise, I won't summon you unless it's a real emergency next time."_

Kitty Jones's words rang in my metaphorical ears as I spiraled through the elemental gates towards home. Unlike with previous masters, I believed she'd keep that promise, but I _might_ have had a differing opinion on what a state of emergency might be.

Difference in dictionaries aside, I was glad the only person who knew of my being alive was Kitty. She had handled her gate trip much better than Ptolemy, and so was still as energetic and spry as ever. With her new status as "the commoner's hero", she was trying to make a real difference in the government, from the outside, anyway. She'd resigned her official post ever since the new PM was elected (1) and was now going it alone (2).

(1. She never bothered to tell me why. I suppose she didn't agree with his anti-magician policies. My, how times have changed…)

(2. I use the term "alone" loosely. I'd been party to a number of her vigilante shenanigans, all willingly, for a change. We made quite the team. Not as good as the three of us had, but… Well, that's neither here nor there.)

Along with my assistance, Kitty had a number of disgruntled ex-magicians on her side, not least of which was one Rebecca Piper. She was reticent about her actual position in government, but she was apparently high enough to give us valuable information about the PM and his plans. We'd used that to track down a certain Jane Farrar(1), who had been the source of my woes for the past month. Due to my brilliance, (and perhaps Kitty's as well), we'd finally caught her and convinced her to lie low, instead of trying to incite foolish rebellion. That done, I'd bid Ms. Jones farewell, and here I was, zooming towards home at last.

(1. I'm sure you all remember her. Over ambitious, more than a little insane, werewolf, yep, that one.)

As I soared through the last of the gates, I passed another spirit being dragged, kicking and screaming, through in the opposite direction. I winced. First summonings are rough on the essence as is, and struggling only makes it worse. I was about to say as much when the being was gone. With a mental shrug, I let myself sink into the vortex of the Other Place.

It really is a shame you humans can't appreciate the feeling of letting go. The knowledge that you don't have to be yourself anymore, that you can be just part of one communal existence, is freeing, to say the least. The way Kitty acted, it was like instead of worrying about one person, you had to worry about millions, but it's actually quite the opposite. As soon as you've been accepted into the whirlpool, you, personally, don't have to care about anything, since there is no "you" (1).

(1. I've lost you, haven't I? Ah well, it seems you mortals will never grasp the concept. Your loss, I suppose.)

I was just beginning to slough off the pains of your world when the familiar fishhooks came clawing at my essence. I was, to put it bluntly, outraged. There could not be an emergency so soon! It just wasn't fair. The universe shouldn't be allowed to work this way! Though, I suppose, there was no love lost between the universe and me, so I guess I wasn't surprised.

Still fuming, I let my essence be torn, piece by piece, from my brethren. As the cruel summoning charm funneled me into one single point, I chose a form, out of spite more than anything else. In a whirl of smoke, a child's form was silhouetted, a magician's old-fashioned coat hung on his limbs, bright blue eyes peered out from under unkempt hair. When the smoke cleared, he had his arms crossed in a petulant manner as he spoke to the occupant of the opposite pentacle.

"Really, couldn't I have had a bit of-"

The child's voice, already a high-pitched whine, chopped off in a bat-like squeak as I spied the occupant of a _third_ pentacle, right next to my own.

"_You?!_"

The spirit, in an eerily similar form, shrugged ruefully.

"Yes, me."

**Nathaniel**

It took a while, but I finally started to acclimate to the strangeness that is the Other Place. I was even starting to get the hang of the spirits' lack of individuality when it happened. Without any warning, a clawing, dragging sensation assaulted the piece of essence I was currently calling my own. I tried to ignore it, but the claws (1) refused to let up; if anything, they grew stronger. I tried to move my consciousness to another swirl of the vortex, but found it impossible. The strange pain bound me in one spot, one _self_.

(1. Well, more like fish hooks, really. 'Claws' isn't nearly painful-sounding enough. )

Even as I struggled to be free, I couldn't help but relish the feeling of being myself again. I'd learned to tolerate being only part of one collective, but deep down, I'd missed being Nathaniel. Even so, the pain outweighed anything good I might have been feeling, so I kept trying to wrench free. No such luck. I was inexorably dragged towards a gate I hadn't even known existed. Oddly enough, it still seemed familiar. Had I seen it before? Or maybe read about it? But where? There are no books in the Other Place.

Finally, I gave up, letting the fishhooks have their way. Just before I shot through the gate, though, I thought I glimpsed another spirit, moving through the gate back towards the safety of the whirlpool.

The lucky bastard.

Then, I was gone, flying through all four elements and beyond. Unable to see, or hear, or think through all the confusion, I barely noticed when my essence was drawn into a single point. I did notice, however, when all the confusion stopped, and I plopped into a drawn pentacle as a blob of silvery goo.

"By the constraints of the circle, the points of the pentacle, and the chain of runes, I bind you. I am your master, and you shall obey me."

Well, that sounded familiar enough. Though, I seemed to be on the wrong side of it… With an effort, my blob of essence opened something that could have been eyes, and I studied my constraints. Yes, they were correct, but this was a pentacle for a demo-

"Do you call that a form? Really, I've had imps with better."

And then the penny dropped.

I was a demon, a spirit, a denizen of the Other Place, at the beck and call of magicians, and I looked like a silver blob of snot. This was slowly turning out to be one of the worst days of my life. The magician in the pentacle opposite kept babbling on to himself, which was quite distracting. I told him so.

"Ouch! What the hell was that for?!"

The magician pushed back a lock of straggly black hair as he glared at me (1).

(1. Painfully familiar, that gesture was. Have I mentioned how much I hate Bartimaeus for being right about everything?)

"I am your master, and I'll not take any cheek from you. Be grateful I didn't do worse."

After a bit of fiddling, I managed a blobby sort of mouth, which cleared my speaking considerably. Also, I have the feeling my expression of utter distaste was more visible.

"Look here, I'm no use to you if I don't have a decent form, so would you kindly leave off while I figure this out? You obviously know I've never been summoned before, so leave off the Punitive Jab for a moment while I sort things out, please."

Once the expression of stunned surprise had settled in on the magician's face, I began to methodically test my abilities. A few misfired Detonations and awkward guise changes later, my pentacle was swathed in smoke as I put the finishing touches on my guise. When the smoke cleared, John Mandrake stood in the pentacle, brushing some nonexistent dust from his shoulder.

"My apologies for the delay," I said.

The magician blinked, stupefied for a moment, then regained his composure.

"Demon, as your master, I charge you. What is your name?"

"Nathaniel."

No point hiding it, I saw the name printed clear as day in the runes by my feet. The man across nodded, seeming satisfied.

"Again, I charge you to answer. Whose form is it that you wear?"

I sighed, knowing this could go on for a long while.

"The form I wear is that of the late magician John Mandrake, wielder of Gladstone's staff and slayer of Nouda." As an afterthought, I added, "Nouda _is _dead, right?"

"Yes, he perished, as you said, at the hands of John Mandrake. But, if this is the first time you've been summoned, how do you know such things? Answer truthfully."

"The tale is long and I don't fully under- Argh! I'm sorry, I know first summoning are big occasions, but can we stop with the archaic shtick? We're both professionals here, we can close loopholes in plain English."

I was starting to regret my outburst, fearing another jolt of pain, when the magician laughed.

"I suppose you're right, demon. I still demand an answer, though. How do you know so much about recent history? And where did you learn Mandrake's true name."

"Like I was saying, I really don't know what happened. I just know what's in my head, and that's all I can tell you. Bartimaeus would probably know more."

"The djinni Bartimaeus is dead."

Hah, he hadn't noticed my vague phrasing. Unobservant, bad quality in a magician.

"Not possible. He was dismissed before the Mandrake lost control of the staff."

It was odd, talking about myself in third person. It's very difficult to not slip and use the wrong pronoun. My identity was a valuable commodity, and not something I'd just spout off to any fool in a pentacle.

"He's listed dead in all recent publications. Even so, I suppose attempting to summon him can't hurt."

Oops... Kitty's going to murder me for this, if Bartimaeus doesn't first.

The magician, still unnamed as of yet, started speaking a binding incantation. Sadly, it was all correct and proper, and invisible chains of runes bound around the outside of my circle. Stuck, I watched as the man stepped from his own circle and began drawing a third, next to mine. He seemed familiar, somehow, and not just because of the Egyptian features. I wondered if I'd glimpsed him at one of Devereaux's parties. I searched my memories, such as they were, but found nothing. Everything important was there, but all the details were hazy.

A jolt on the seven planes broke my reverie (1). In the new pentacle, a cloud of smoke, much more impressive than my feeble attempts, was roiling. Inside, a small form crouched, imp-like, before rising slowly and, with a gesture, clearing the smog.

(1. Not that I knew what it was at the time. I just felt the air vibrating at high levels and looked about in alarm.)

I blinked, stared at the spirit, then blinked again. The young boy stared back. His eyes, no, _Nathaniel's_ eyes were fixed on me. Mr. Underwood's greatcoat hung on his limbs in a woebegone fashion, and his hair stuck up messily in every direction. His voice, before petering off in a surprised squeak, was that same petulant whine that he'd chastised me for so often. The roar that followed, though, was in true Bartimaeus style: loud and indignant.

"_You?!_"

I twitched my shoulders in a helpless shrug.

"Yes, me."

* * *

_**You know, I really love outlines. With one of those, you can come back from a 6 month hiatus and know exactly where you are. Fantastic things. Really.**_

_**...**_

_**Yeah, it's been a while... But in my defense, my summer was extremely busy, and writing was shunted to the back burner, and- Okay, so I suck at multi-chapter stories. There, I admit it. BUT! I'm back now, and hopefully my updates should be semi-regular, with the story getting into full swing and all.**_

_**I really am sorry for disappearing. It was not on purpous, I assure you. However, now that I'm back, if you feel like leaving a comment or something, I'd be very, VERY, appreciative. If not, well... I suppose I can't expect much. *shrugs*. **_

_**Thanks for reading~**_


	6. Chapter 5

**Thoth**

"_You?!_"

"Yes, me."

As his eyes flickered between the two spirits, Thoth began to think he'd stumbled upon something much bigger than he'd anticipated. The faces across from him, glaring at each other, were different incarnations of the same person. Well, they were until the demon Bartimaeus changed into a different boy, the familiar guise he'd worn as the servant of John Mandrake. Speaking of Mandrake, how had this demon Nathaniel taken his form? It made a bit of sense that an old servant had discovered Mandrake's name, but a demon fresh from the Other Place? No, that couldn't be possible.

Thoth tried to puzzle these things out, but was rather distracted by the demons' exchange.

"What do you mean, I can't be here? Because I obviously am."

"But you can't! I was there when you let the Staff go, I saw the ruins of the palace, I was at your bloody FUNERAL! There _is no way_ you can be alive."

The magician cleared his throat.

"Well, there was no way for demons to destroy the British government, either, and look what happened!"

"You arrogant brat! Just because you assumed your precious government was indestructible doesn't mean actually it was. But coming back from the dead is, most definitely, not possible."

Another clearing of the throat, louder this time.

"Then how am I here?"

"You shouldn't be!"

"Bartimaeus, we're getting nowh-"

"Will the both of you shut up?! I will stipple the both of you if I don't get silence in the next four seconds!"

"…"

"…"

"That's better. Now, strange circumstances aside, it's good you two know each other. I have an important charge for you to carry out, and it's better that you go together."

Swallowing, Thoth carefully thought out his next statement.

"I charge you, Nathaniel, and you, Bartimaeus, to steal the Amulet of Samarkand from the government vault. You are to do so discreetly and without detection. When your task is complete, await my summons, which I shall enact at dawn tomorrow."

This statement was met with two comically dropped jaws.

"Do you understand your charge?"

No response.

"I repeat, do you understand? Speak, demons!"

The spirit Nathaniel recovered first, clearing its throat awkwardly.

"Yes… But why on earth would you need the Amulet? I mean, most of the great magicians of Britain were destroyed in- Ow!"

Thoth's spell caused the spirit to hop once in his pentacle with a yelp of pain.

"I will not explain my reasons to you, demon. Just know that, if your task is completed in a satisfactory manner, you will be dismissed. Do I make myself clear?"

The other demon, Bartimaeus, found his voice at last.

"Crystal. However, there is one small problem. Ah! Hear me out before using that! This idiot here," Bartimaeus jerked a thumb towards Nathaniel, "is less than competent for the mission. Breaking into the government vaults is no easy task, and he couldn't be stealthy if he tried."

"Now wait just a minute-"

"So, if you're going to send us on something as foolhardy as this, I'll need some time to train the newbie."

The Egyptian boy crossed his arms, waiting for a response.

Thoth mulled his words over. It was true he hadn't expected his new servant to be quite so…inept. The demons he'd summoned before were more experienced, or at least familiar with their own essence, for goodness sakes! This one, though…

"Alright. I understand your concerns. I shall give you one more day to complete your charge. During that time, you are to speak to no demon or human, magician or commoner, and keep yourselves out of sight at all times. Do you understand?"

Two grudging nods.

"Good. You have your charge, now go."

A wave of the hand and Bartimaeus disappeared. Nathaniel, though, stood in his circle a moment longer, looking rather foolish, before shakily shimmering out of sight.

Thoth let out a sigh and stepped from his pentacle. He'd be a wanted man by morning. But that was be better than losing all his rights and the profession he'd been training for his whole life, right? Right. He was just nervous, that was all. But there was no need to be. He was smarter than his master. He could break the law and not get caught, or consumed by a demon, or anything nasty like that.

There was the small matter of his enigmatic demon, though. Clearing the papers off his desk chair, Thoth sat down and began shuffling through the mess. While the demons were gone, he'd research The Incident and figure out exactly what had happened to John Mandrake. The details should still be around. Five years wasn't that long a time, really.

**Bartimaeus**

As soon as the words of the dismissal met my ears, I was gone, swirling out the chimney and through London's bleak streets once again. Have I mentioned how much I despise this city? It's too wet, too earthy, and packed full of nasty memories to boot (1). My form, a ticked-off raven, spiraled down towards a landmark of my previous adventures, the derelict library. There were apparently plans to bulldoze it before the coup, but those went through the window and our hideout was safe.

[1. Well, there's one decent person in the mess, but I was forbidden to speak to her. Remember that thing about the universe and I not getting along?]

I had settled into a fairly dry corner of an upstairs room when I realized something. Did Nathaniel know how to respond to a dismissal? My essence was just rallying to go and find the moron when a rather lopsided dove landed at my feet [1].

[1. Okay, so it was a crash landing. I don't know what he expected. The wings weren't even the same length. Actually, it's a wonder he made it to the library at all…]

"Smooth, Natty boy. I can see you're shaping up to be a _fine_ djinni."

The bedraggled bird shot me a sulky look, then began examining its wings, trying to even out the lengths.

"We're going to make a _great_ team." I continued blithely, enjoying my "let's wind Nathaniel up" game, "It'll be like one of those master and protégé deals, where I get to be the master, for once! I think I'll even have you call me ma-"

"Would you shut up, Bartimaeus?"

"No way. I haven't gotten to bug you for five years. Got to make up for lost time, haven't I?"

"If you keep it up, I won't tell you anything about how I survived."

I considered that for a minute. I was more than a little curious about how the brat had survived, but…

"If you don't tell me, I won't teach you a darn thing."

"What?!"

I shrugged.

"Fair's fair. You learn how to be a proper djinni, I get the details on your miraculous appearance, the witty remarks are free of charge."

The dove, (a little more symmetrical now), glared at me.

"There's no way I'll be able to learn from _you._ Especially when you're just as likely to insult me as teach."

Raven and dove stayed locked in a stare-down for a few moments. Then I got bored(1), so out came my trump card.

[1. Yes, even awesome djinn of great antiquity can suffer from short attention spans, especially after a great shock. After all, I'm not a natterjack impling or some equally flighty creature. I was just out of sorts.]

"Alright then. Let's just say the insults and snark are payment for making Kitty cry. You have no idea what that much water does to my essence, believe me."

That shut him up. While Nat tried to figure out some sort of reply, I meticulously preened my feathers. The raven's beak was straightening its last primary feather when the boy's voice drifted across to my ears.

"Was she that upset?"

"That and more."

Nathaniel seemed to slump even more, wingtips brushing the dirty concrete. I was a bit surprised. Apparently whatever powers that brought the kid back did something even more miraculous; they'd freed Nathaniel from that nasty John Mandrake mask. Don't get me wrong, I prefer Nathaniel, I just wasn't used to dealing with him. But I did know that, to get anything useful done, I'd have to pull the boy out of his depression.

"Well, that's neither here nor there. If you hadn't done it, we'd all be dead, so what are a few tears here and there, eh?"

That earned me a small nod. I wanted to smack the false cheeriness out of my voice, but it wouldn't leave. The nasty, syrupy sound lingered as I tried again.

"Let's put the business of the glass palace behind us and get started, hm? We've only got an extra day to get you in top form!"

A small, unidentifiable sound issued from the dove's beak. I cocked my head.

"What was that?"

There it was again, this time as a clear snort. He was laughing at me! The cheek!

"Now, is that really necessary?"

Another snort, followed by a loud snicker.

"Necessary? You sounded like those motivational speakers we used to hire to talk to the commoners. Of course it's necessary!"

And then he broke down into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. I set my beak in what I hoped was a dignified tilt and turned away. It didn't help, though. The whole situation was so ridiculous, when you thought about it. I held out for a few more precious seconds before a chuckle escaped, then I was done for.

We went on like that for some time, laughing at the stupidity of it all. I, as the more mature one, recovered first. Reverting to the familiarity of Ptolemy's form, I sat cross-legged, hands on knees. After a moment, Nathaniel made his shaky guise change, assuming the form of his old body, pre-pestilence attack.

"That," I began, "Is where we'll start. The best, and most useful, part of being a djinni is our ability to shift forms at will on all the lower planes. You need to be fast, or you'll be a scorch mark on the floor before you can say 'Akhenaton'."

The boy that wasn't a boy looked a bit confused.

"Why bother, though? Can't we just use a shield?"

I raised one of Ptolemy's eyebrows.

"Nat, you're djinni, not some afrit or marid. We're squarely in the middle of the power spectrum, not helpless, but certainly not all powerful either. Any shield you can create will only hold up to so much. So, dodging and being quick on your feet will be your best advantages."

Nathaniel nodded, the old focus coming back to his eyes. His eyes moved to his hand, watching as it flexed and relaxed.

"How do you get a handle on this essence stuff? It's not like this in the Other Place…"

"Practice. We don't have much time, so you'd better get started."

* * *

**Abrupt ending is abrupt. This scene just wouldn't end...**

**Anyway, I'm here! With a somewhat on time update! I'm so excited!**

**If you noticed the inconsistency with the footnotes, ()vs.[], that was on purpose. I can't really decide which one works best... Your thoughts?**

**Oh, anon review replies from the last chapter! (And before, since I'm so behind with this story...)**

**Shakti: Here's your update! Sorry it took three months... School and all. :I I'm really glad you like the story so far. The 'Nat turns into a spirit" thing is rather popular on this site, and there are some really good ones out there. _Kindred Souls Don't Necessarily Get Along _is a favorite of mine~ I'm glad you're liking how my story's turning out so far!**

**dnangelfan: Sweet~ I hope you like the rest. As for _Fieldtrip to Tokyo_, you should check my profile for information on that and the rest of my old stories. (It's a long explanation and I don't wanna clog up this Author's Note).**

**Dracones: Thank you! You have no idea how much comments like yours make my day~**

**Neela: Yes, I'm continuing it! School and life kind of took over my writing, so I had to drop fan fiction in general for a few months... But I'm back now~ I'm glad you like Bart's section. He's so fun to write. (I think that's why this chapter refused to end nicely...) *blushes* Thanks, it's nice to hear that. I'm always afraid my style's too childish. I'm really happy you like it~**

**That's all I've got for the moment. Thanks for reading, and if you'd like, drop a comment. I love to hear from my readers. :)**


	7. Chapter 6

**Kitty**

"Why do you always stop to stare at the statue by the ruins?"

"You're avoiding my question, Evren."

"Am not. I'm just asking another one before I answer yours. Why do you do it?"

Kitty Jones ran a hand through her grey-streaked hair and took a sip of her hot chocolate. If this kid wasn't so intriguing… But she was, so Kitty swallowed her irritation at the kid and answered.

"John Mandrake was a…" She trailed off for a moment, wondering how to describe hers and Nathaniel's relationship, "…an old friend of mine, let's say. I stare at the statue so I can laugh at the idiotic sculptors. N- John would have never had that sappy smile plastered to his face."

The ten-year-old across from Kitty nodded slowly, reaching to take another gulp from her glass of milk. Finding the glass empty, Evren gave Kitty the 'I'm a starving orphan, didn't you know', look. Kitty's lip quirked.

"Don't give me that, you've still got half your iced bun left. I'll flag the waiter down again when you answer my question."

Evren slumped in her chair, hiding sulky Arabic features with messy bangs. Kitty waited, the evening hum of Druid's Café pulsing around her. Being in this crowd, it was almost like she was back in the Other Place, the swirl of a thousand selves in and around her own- She wrenched herself back. Now was not the time for reminiscing. Attention re-focused, Kitty eyed her young companion.

Feeling the older woman's gaze, Evren mumbled, "The head honcho kicked me out last night. Said I was disrupting the gang." Her voice turned bitter and she continued through a vicious bite of her treat. "All I did was tell a scary story that made him scream like a little girl. But he booted me out anyway. The other kids aren't supposed to talk to me, either, but that won't work."

"Why not?"

"Cause I'm the best at getting into the haunted houses, even though I've only been here a month. I had two come up to me this morning asking for help." She smirked.

"And what are-" Kitty broke off as a waiter passed by, raising a hand to snag his attention. He nodded and took Evren's glass before going on his way. Kitty continued, "What are these haunted houses?"

"You know, those giant houses around the Parliament buildings. They've got ghosts and traps all over, but some people pay tons for the stuff inside."

Kitty nodded, knowing how overpriced black market magic was. Ever since the new government situated itself, all stores to do with magic had been forced to close due to the bans. Those that refused to were ransacked by mobs of scared commoners, their merchandise destroyed and their buildings torched. Of course, the government was enamored with the power of magic too, almost as much as they feared it, so they refused to just torch the magician's actual houses.

"So, you don't use any of the things yourself, then?" Kitty's mind was on the old Resistance movement, remembering her own similar actions. Evren shook her head, though.

"No. We don't know how to. Don't want to, either. The people we sell them to are kind of scary, so we just fence them and run."

Before Kitty could respond, the waiter returned and set another glass of milk before Evren. The child mumbled a 'thanks' through her last mouthful of pastry and Kitty rolled her eyes.

"You have horrible manners, Eve."

Evren's cool, uncaring mask dropped for just a moment, "Don't call me that!" Then she realized her mistake, the facade slid back into place, "It's too girly. Most of the kids still think I'm a guy. I wanna keep it that way."

Kitty raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. Instead, she took another drink of her hot chocolate and leaned back in her chair, changing the subject.

"Do you have somewhere to sleep tonight?"

"Yep. There's an abandoned building up in the north part of town. They say it's haunted, but I'll be fine." With that, Evren gulped down the last of her milk and stood, eyes turned to the burnished orange sky. "Thanks for the food, Miss."

"Anytime, Evren. If that library gets a bit too haunted for your tastes, you can always kip at my place."

Evren shrugged. "I doubt it will, but thanks."

The girl's shadow reached halfway across Seven Dials Square as she made her way into the heart of the city. Kitty watched her go, then left payment and a substantial tip on the table before getting to her feet and leaving as well. Her normal route home passed the ruin of the Glass Palace, and part of her longed to see that last reminder of her old life. She took a different turn, though. That time was past, and nostalgia did unpleasant things to her head.

Kitty's house was by no means tiny. With the pension she got from the government, she'd been able to afford a place in a fairly nice part of town. It was near her parent's old home in an innocuous neighborhood, a two story apartment next to a lot of other two story apartments. When she opened the door, the warm air inside reached out to pull her in. Did instant aging always turn people into homebodies? She shrugged to herself.

On her way upstairs to her office, Kitty glanced at a certain carpet in her living room, the carpet that covered her one, custom, pentacle. She desperately wanted to talk to Bartimaeus, discuss the mystery child with him. But no, she'd promised to leave him be, unless an emergency came up.

She sighed, harmonizing with the creak of the stairs. Getting old was a pain, especially when it happened before its time. What Kitty would have given to be out on the streets, looking, searching, _finding_ the few magicians who would convert to her cause. Now all she could do was sit at home and organize and plan, and, occasionally, interview intriguing children. Not that she regretted her trip to the Other Place, but the side effects were less than pleasant.

Settling into her chair, Kitty picked up a paper, delivered by Piper's imp, more than likely. She scanned it, not terribly interested. The government was at rest, stockpiling funds and support for whatever their next big play would be, and while Kitty knew she should pay attention, her action-loving self wouldn't give a flying foliot. The chair squeaked as her head lolled back. Maybe, just for a little while, she'd be nostalgic and remember…

**Bartimaeus**

"You call that a Detonation? Well, my bunny slippers just ran in fright."

The concrete block I'd scrounged up stood exactly where I'd placed it, not even phased by Nat's attempt [1]. I ran a weary hand across Ptolemy's face. We'd been at this training thing for almost twenty-four hours. We djinn don't tire as easily as humans, but we do need a break sometime. I could tell Nat needed a rest as well. His posture, all slumped and dejected, didn't bode well for our endeavor, but he was trying to rally; I could see it in his eyes.

[1. Well, maybe there was a poof of dust… Actually, I take that back, it was just a breeze from the window.]

"Well, sorry for my first attempt being so horrible." And with that, he sent another blast of energy flying.

That one was better, clipping the corner of our target and blowing a good chunk off before hurtling into a wall and leaving a small indent. Before I could come up with a reasonable encouragement, he let another loose, then another, and another. To his credit, all of them at least touched the block. Less so was the fact that two of them also managed to shoot straight at me. I performed a few trademark maneuvers, gently admonishing the boy as I did so.

"Oi! Watch where you're throwing those! That one almost blew my head off!"

He groaned and slumped again.

"This is impossible! How do you de- I mean, spirits do it?!"

I shrugged. Honestly, I was as befuddled as the boy. Most new spirits caught on to this stuff instinctively. I looked up from my contemplation, and caught Nathaniel in the act of trying yet another Detonation.

"Whoa there, hold on a second. I think we need a break, unless you want me to have holes in my essence?" I cocked my head at a mumble, "What's that?"

"Oh nothing…" A blatant lie, but I was willing to ignore it. For now.

I slid down the nearest wall, Ptolemy's form curling into its modern jacket like any real human might[1]. Nathaniel joined me after a while, sighing. I heard him take a breath to say something, but then something else reached my ears and I clapped a hand over his mouth. Whatever he was going to say was muffled into a 'mmph' sort of sound which blocked out the first of the footsteps. The next few were clear as day, though, and we both stayed stone still, listening. They were the tripping footsteps of a child, and they were alone. Nat and I shared a confused glance. What would a kid be doing here, after all?

[1. I've always been a stickler for accuracy, at least with Ptolemy's form, and what with having to blend in as Kitty's companion, I'd picked up some more tricks in the past years. It's a good thing Faquarl isn't alive to read this. He'd blow my essence to bits out of frustration.]

The footsteps changed timber; the child was climbing the stairs.

"I suppose our charge forbids us from scaring the daylights out of them?"

Nathaniel nodded, looking slightly put out. Maybe my taste in pranks was rubbing off on him? Regardless, we both shimmered into invisibility on the lower three planes. This new master was tetchy, wouldn't do to upset him if he somehow found out. There are better orders to disobey if you want to wind them up, after all.

Not a moment later, a head poked through the door. Large, dark eyes whizzed around the room from inside a dusky, almost Arabic face. The choppy bangs fell in to the eyes, matching well with the rest of the short hair. Then, the eyes met mine. Not passed, met. We stared at each other for a long moment, the eyes shifted to Nat, and held for another tense second. Then, the face went very, very pale and disappeared, leaving nothing but the sound of rapid footsteps behind.

I snickered. "There are disadvantages to seeing higher planes. Sometimes there's something _spooooky_ in the dark corners."

Nathaniel laughed. An oddly tense sound, it was. "Indeed. How did she see us, though? I was invisible on all three planes."

"I don't know. She wasn't wearing lenses, from what I could see…"

Our eyes met, then. There was only one person either of us knew who'd been able to see the higher planes without aid[1].

[1. As well as a good number of other impossible things, including but not limited to: surviving a potent djinni's Infernos and Detonations, fairly skipping away from a mountain-side tumble, and _not_ being squished flat by a statue.]

"You're quite sure that Pestilence killed the Mercenary, right?"

**Kitty**

A knock sounded at the front door, and the knocker had time to get at least two more in before Kitty was at the door and could open it. She was met by Evren's pale face, eyes wide and dark in contrast.

"T-the ghosts…" Evren stuttered, her whole body shaking, "They- they weren't ghosts…"

Without question, Kitty opened the door fully and ushered the little girl in, guiding her to a chair in the small living room.

"Wait here, I'll put some tea on, alright?" The only reply she got was a small nod.

When Kitty got back into the room, bearing tea, Evren had relaxed somewhat, legs curled up under her body. She accepted the offered tea cup with an embarrassed mutter of thanks. Kitty seated herself opposite Evren and set her own cup on the small table between them.

"So, ghosts that aren't ghosts?"

Evren nodded and took a deep, calming breath.

"Yeah. Normally, they're just…ghosts. They're not really there. They only show up on one…" She trailed off, searching for a word.

"Plane?"

"Yes, plane. They drift around, like they're sleep walking, and they're all see-through. These ones were solid, and they were different on every plane, but solid. And they looked at me. The others don't…" Another shudder swept through the girl, and Kitty nodded, thoughtfully.

"Do you remember what they looked like?"

Evren nodded, "Yeah, one looked like one of the Greek boys back home, but with darker skin and straighter hair… He also had something really creepy behind him. It's harder for me to see the back layers, so I couldn't tell. The other one…" She stopped to chew her lip, thinking, "He looked like the statue in the park. On all the planes, or whatever they are."

Evren's sharp eyes caught how Kitty tensed at that last sentence. How she retreated into herself, let her lips mumble some word or other. A name, perhaps?

* * *

**A/N: Blahrg, why can't I end chapters nicely?! *sigh* Sorry for the awkward ending, again... But on a brighter note, I'm back to a somewhat normal update schedule~ There's not really much more for me to say, so...**

**Read, review and enjoy!**


	8. Chapter 7

_**A/N: Just a notice, I'm going to be changing my pen-name to Ramblings-and-randomness, to match my tumblr url, so followers of this story, don't be alarmed when the next chapter is posted by a different name. All excuses for the lateness of the chapter shall be at the bottom. Enjoy.**_

* * *

**Bartimaeus**

Nathaniel and I stayed stock still for at least five minutes after the child disappeared. Neither of us were going to risk anything after our disturbing encounter. Finally, though, I decided the coast was clear and let Ptolemy slide slowly down the wall in a slump. Nathaniel did the same, sighing in relief[1].

[1. There was no air to back the sigh up, but he'd fallen into his old human habits right quick.]

"So… Back to work?"

I shook my head. "Nope, it's off to the races. Might as well get this business over with." With that, I stood stiffly, stretching my essence, trying to work out all the laces of pain. "It's a darn shame you're a djinni now, Nat. That possession trick would really come in handy."

"No. Even if I had my body, I'd never do that again. Not in a thousand years." The boy was at the window now, staring across the city to the dark buildings of Whitehall.

"Does-"

"We'll talk while we fly, kid."

With that, I shoved Nathaniel unceremoniously out the shattered window. His yelp of surprise morphed into a squawk as his essence molded to a crow's form. I nodded approvingly as I drew up alongside, raven's wings beating the air.

"Nice change. So, what were you going to say?"

"I was saying," He gritted out, "Does the new government employ any magicians?"

"Nope. Actually, they've started putting down bans and proposing laws to put the lot of you, or them, I should say, in jail. I'm betting the amulet's just sitting under a glass case with lasers around it."

Scoffing, I caught an updraft and spiraled skyward. Nathaniel followed, looking as thoughtful as a crow can[1].

[1. That is, barely thoughtful at all. Crows' expressive capabilities are limited to eerie staring, malevolent glaring and "the squawk". Admittedly, a raven's not much better, but hey, if I can make a moth frown, then I can do anything.]

"So then, why didn't this Elton fellow just walk in and take it?"

"Probably 'cause he's a klutz. Most magicians are, except when they're drawing pentacles."

"Well, I suppose I can't deny- Hey!"

I cut my laughter short as we landed in the courtyard of the main office building. A quick ratchet through the planes revealed nothing out of the ordinary, though I think there were still a few 5th plane scorch marks where Nat and I misfired with the Staff. Satisfied with the relative safety of the place, I gestured to Nathaniel.

"C'mon, let's go."

**Nathaniel**

At Bartimaeus' command, I left my crow guise in favor of something resembling my old body[1] and followed him into the depths of Whitehall. All seemed just as we'd left it on our way out to fight Nouda. The floor was cracked in the exact same places, the skew of the pictures barely altered. Oddly enough, my memory seemed to be recovering. It was a pleasant surprise, but a surprise none the less. I was tempted to search my mind, familiarize myself with what had been missing, but decided against it. There were better things to use my newly expanded attention on[2].

[1. I might have tweaked a few things… Ridiculous hairstyles and fashion choices come to mind.]

[2. As a djinni, I find myself with multiple levels of thought. It's bloody useful, but confusing. My new thinking levels also account for the footnotes. Since I can't write seven things on top of one another, I resort to this instead.]

With more concentration than I'd have liked, I flipped through the planes one by one. Each one cast a different light on my poor three-plane memories as well as revealing new additions to the familiar halls. I had almost hit the seventh plane when-

"You're doing it again."

I winced at the clear snicker imbedded in the comment and focused on the eyes of my guise, forcing them to hold to one color. Whenever I viewed the planes with my inner eye, my physical eyes tended to change colors. We'd discovered that soon after daybreak that morning, and Bartimaeus was thrilled to have another opportunity to poke fun at me. I was at a loss on how to correct it, as I couldn't focus on both tasks at once. Bartimaeus said I just wasn't trying. I told him to sod off.

My scanning lasted until we got to a split in the hall. I turned to the left and kept going for a good stretch before I noticed I was alone. Bartimaeus had apparently gone the wrong way. Sighing, I ran back, looking for my companion.

"Bartimaeus, where are-"

A hand clapped over my mouth before I could finish.

"You idiot!"Bartimaeus hissed, "There could be anything here. Don't go shouting out our location for all and sundry!"

I bristled and removed the hand from my mouth. "Well, if you didn't insist on wandering off, I wouldn't have to go shouting now, would I?" I shoved away, turning to the correct hallway once again. "C'mon then."

"How do you know that's the right one?" Bartemaeus was trotting after me, seeming rather upset that I was in the know while he wasn't. I couldn't squash the smirk that wandered onto my face.

"Well, when you're running for your life from a bloodthirsty mercenary of untold power, the route isn't that easy to forget.[1]"

[1. Too true, that. I could probably tell you the exact number of steps it was to the vault a hundred years from now. (It was two-hundred eighty six, by the way.) Near-death experiences are powerful things.]

I heard a scoffing sort of snort from the spirit behind me, and was about to respond in kind when I came to an immediate and abrupt halt. Throwing out an arm, I stopped Bartimaeus as well before he stepped across the line of red tiles, tiles that were glowing faintly on the higher planes. And if these were working, then that could only mean…

"No magicians, you said?"

The only response I got was a shrug as the Egyptian boy beside me knelt to examine the tiles.

"These shouldn't be active…" He muttered to himself. "These REALLY shouldn't be working. The only magicians around powerful enough to do this are dead or-" I raised one eyebrow as his eyes fell on me.

"Oi, don't look at me. I've been with you the whole time since my summoning, or did you miss the pathetic attempts at existence in general?"

"Fair point, now run."

And with that, we were off, dashing down the hall and towards the door. After all, what were two lone djinni going to do against a magician on par with my past self? Of course, I wasn't sure what we were going to do now, but I trusted Bartimaues to think of something[1].

[Well, that last sentence was embarrassing.]

**Kitty**

"He looked like the statue in the park. On all the planes, or whatever they are."

Kitty was having a hard time keeping the surprise off her face. Not only could this girl see almost all seven planes, but imprints of magic as well? Or at least, that's what she thought the "ghosts" were. Those, combined with her earlier claim of not being hurt by magician's traps, implied that this kid had unheard of levels of Resilience. The old Kitty ached to pull this girl into the world of magicians and politics, knowing she could be an invaluable asset. The current, silver-haired, much wiser Kitty promptly slapped her other self. If there was one thing she'd never stoop to, it was being a power-obsessed rebel leader. London didn't need another Pennyfeather.

Then there was the matter of the demons in the library. The first could possibly be Bartimaeus. He'd never mentioned his seventh plane form, nor showed it, but Ptolemy did look more than a little Greek and she'd never seen or read about another djinni taking that form. The library was also a good piece of evidence. Granted, she'd kept his existence hushed up, but magicians were a distrustful lot by nature. As for the other… Well, she dared not, _would not,_ think (or hope) as to its identity.

"Evren," She said, voice level and calm, "You're right, those weren't ghosts. Those are what you'd call demons, or spirits. They're powerful denizens of another world, called here by magic. Do you know what magic is?"

Evren shrugged, "It's what the other kids and I see floating around the streets, all glowing and stuff, right?"

"Sort of. Magic is usually defined as the means of summoning those spirits to this world from their own dimension. All the glowing stuff is the residue the spirits leave."

The child nodded slowly. "So, those were demons in the library?"

"The more polite term is 'spirit', but yes."

"Then… What are the ghosts I see in the haunted houses?"

"Ummm…" Kitty bit her lip. "I'm not sure. I don't have sight like you."

"Oh."

Silence reigned for a while as both of them sat, deep in thought. Soon, though, Evren couldn't take the silence anymore.

"So, is that offer still open? To stay here, I mean."

Kitty grinned. "You'll have to earn your keep. No mooching off the invalid here."

"Fine by me." Evren yawned. "'s long as I get a bed."

* * *

_**A/N: Hello readers. I know, the lateness of this is fantastically not cool. I blame college. Preparation for it is sucking up all my time. Well, that and tumblr. Speaking of, my tumblr url is ramblings-and-randomness. I'll be posting revisions of this story and other blurbs on there from time to time, so if that interests you, check it out.**_

_**I love you all. Reviews are fantastic. Don't worry, this project is not dead.**_


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